Cries in the Night: The Plan
Tempest Corona '' ''Of substantial size and dominance within the freehold of Crown's Refuge are the expansive gardens known as the Tempest Corona. Encircled around the base of the towering Tempest Spire, Tempest Corona exists is three circular walkways - one around the base of Tempest Spire, one around the edge of the corona, and one in the middle - that interlock at regular intervals amidst gardens of lush vegetation, delicate statues and fountains, and proud trees and ferns. Awash in an ocean of jade and viridian hues, the footpaths that weave around the drape of nature's finest have apparently been created from a smooth obsidian rock that glistens a shade of dark purple when wet. This black stone serves to contrast with the otherwise pristine white of the tower that looms above, both of which equally complementing the varied greens of the gardens that encompass the whole area. The hiss and burble of fresh water from artificial streams, channels, and fountains alike provide a perpetually peaceful backdrop to the more natural ambiance of whispering leaves and rustling bushes. Patrolmen and Guards attached to the Blood Guard of Crown's Refuge stand at key points around the gardens - Human and Syladris alike - in half-plate of a polished dark-scarlet hue; an elegant tower-shield in one hand, an iron short sword in the other. Centered at the heart of Crown's Refuge, the Tempest Corona links to all four of the artery pathways that run through the freehold to the north, east, south, and west. The archway that leads into Tempest Spire itself faces south towards Fastheld, flanked by two Blood Guards at all times. Regardless of the presence of the Crown's Refuge defense guard, Tempest Corona harbors a sense of peace matched only by that of the Snowfall Basin in the northwest. ---- It is a temperate night. A stiff breeze blows over the land. It is raining. The following of the six moons are visible in the sky: Stormwatcher (green/waning), Torch II (gray/waning). A beacon stands alone admist the swirling rain, her serenity as great a contrast with the weather as her skin is against her obsidian station. The stiff breeze buffets the mane into a tempestuous maelstrom of snow, whipping and snapping 'round a pair of steadily watching eyes and across the patient line of nude lips. She watches the skies. From the Spire comes one tired bard, staff clicking on the stones as he walks. Seeing the Syladris archmage, he makes his way toward her. "I went back to the empire," he says. "None had seen it." Sandrim walks in from the east ahead of Evaryn, a grin on his lips, but he slows down as he approaches Taran and Tshepsi, lips twisting down. "Back from the Empire?" he asks. "To ask about the dragon, I take it?" Evaryn nods as she finally catches up to Sandrim, looking to Taran and then Tshepsi, bowing towards the latter. "Good evening," she greets softly. "Then it flew not far sssouth.." Tshepsi concludes, her gaze and posture unfaltering. "What of Wildcat Haven or the Bulwark, I wonder." A brief shift in her eyes is spared towards those who just arrived, but nothing more. Yet. "In Northreach they saw nothing," says Taran. "And that city is up against the inside of the Aegis. No word had reached Light's Reach, either. But I do not know these other places you mention...if I have a guide, I will go there and see? My horse is fast." "Taran, your ar... nevermind," Sandrim says needlessly, shaking his head. He lifts a hand to rub his temple lightly. Evaryn smiles grimly, "Looking for what flew past us?" she inquires softly, tucking back a strand of hair. "I can travel faster, if you are in need of searching for something," she offers of Tshepsi. "Wildcat Haven," Tshepsi murmurs, pointing a finger blindly to the southeast, then the other due south "Bulwark. Witthin Crown'sss Refuge. Old women and children do not traverssse thisss land alone. Tthey are misssed by someone. Yet no one hasss sssent word to my earsss." There's a pause as she looks to Evaryn, brows furrowed. "And Sssoravyn. The Archon. Isss away from me." Taran looks sheepish. "Oh...the districts here," he nods. "But the dragon came from the southwest and flew northeast...so perhaps only the Syladris *could* have seen it pass?" Sandrim shakes his head toward Taran. "No," he says to the bard. "It was pretty high up. They could probably see it in more than one place around the Refuge." He frowns. "And it looked like a human woman, to me, so it wasn't just in the basin." Evaryn falls silent as she looks between those now assembled, her arms wrapping loosely around her waist, though most of her focus comes in on Tshepsi. "Drakessspine..." Tshepsi utters in a chilled whisper, and suddenly, the breeze falters in its blowing. It softens, caressing her disheveled appearance as though in apology. The rain, however, continues without hitch. "White ssskies borne on black wingsss...o'er the cresssts of Drakessspine. We cannot follow." Taran looks a bit wounded. "The woman is beyond rescue?" he asks. "And we do not even know from whence she was taken..." Sandrim smiles sympathetically. "There wasn't much we could do in the first place. We're just human. She... was taken by a dragon, yesterday." The words, meant to be comforting, appear to leave Sandrim himself unsure as he looks off into the sky. "A woman was taken?" Evaryn finally pipes up, blinking. "By a /Dragon/? But why would a dragon take a woman?" She looks a bit puzzled, looking around, but the question is mostly directed towards the archmage. "Every creature hasss an agenda," Tshepsi replies simply, matter-of-factly, "and all thingsss mussst eat. But what remainsss of her fate I do not know. How the bordersss are crosssed I do not know. Thisss land, though my home, holdsss many ssecretsss yet from me. You humansss find trouble in underssstanding sssuch thingsss. You are born into a place. Your bodiesss grow...transssform. It isss amazing..." Rapture in her eyes for a moment as she looks to them, Tshepsi continues. "You live for many yearsss to experience and learn of your place, of the sssurrounding landsss. But we, the Sssyladrisss, know no luxury asss you. My memory consssisssts of dreamss...of sssoundsss and whissspers of uknown originsss. We hold no tiessss...we learn namesss, hissstoriesss only from what children of Crown'sss Refuge and children of Fasstheld tell usss. Thessse treesss...thessse creaturesss...while their life breathesss deep witthin me I cannot sssensse their passst. I do not know why they dwell, nor where they come to feed. Only that they do. I do not know what makesss a fern grow...only that it doesss. All thessse thingsss are born of the underearth and all posssesss linksss to one another. But not the Ssssyladrisss...." ‘’A single, far off grating cry can be heard, as if from a great distance, and then there is silence once more.’’ Taran shakes his head. "I think...I would disagree with you there, mistress," he says. "For I have seen no creatures more attuned to all that is than the Syladris. Because you do not have names for it, does not mean it is not there." He turns as the cry sounds, facing it. "...We are meant to follow," he says. "This dragon...could have hidden taking that woman. Could easily keep us from finding it. Yet it cries out, flies low...are we not invited, tested to follow as we are able?" Sandrim turns to look over at Taran, worrying at his lower lip, before saying, "You plan to go out after it, then?" he looks around a moment, before shaking his head. "If you are, I'm not sticking here. I can't ride, but I'm not waiting behind." Evaryn looks around, "It could just be taunting us," she points out softly. "To remind us of his presence... for, in this area, can /you/ identify which direction the sound comes from? We are being mocked, not encouraged to follow." "If you wisssh to be eaten, perhapsss," Tshepsi purrs. "Do you fisssh....Sssinger?" Tshepsi questions Taran with a cryptic voice, curling one set of talons while reaching the other towards the northern horizon. "Becaussse it doesss...Do not be hungry for bait. Be patient. To the nortttth liesss many terrible thingsss...one body vanissshes too easssily. But many bodiesss...fair better oddsss." Taran tilts his head. "Archmage, when one has the power to raze whole cities, what is the point in sparing such effort to fish for one man? I am nothing to such a one. None of us are. But..." he looks amused and rueful at once. "It rather goes against my grain to leave a damsel in distress, mistress. Even if the dragon always wins." "Sport, maybe," Sandrim supplies, looking over to Taran. "He could raze a whole city, but where's the fun in that? And... Taran, please don't run off. I'd have to run after you, and I wouldn't last out there." He grimaces. "Neither of us is ready." "If the two of you insist on being stupid, and would like an escort..." Evaryn says with a sigh. "I know my way through the Wildlands fairly well, and could, perhaps, be of some help to you." "Let him go," Tshepsi states, tone and intentions having abruptly changed, a slyness formed within her eyes. He can be of ussse even if he isss ingesssted. Remember my wordsss, menchildren. It isss posssible to follow while standing ssstill..." Lifting her gaze to the tower's peak, the Archmage points a finger. "But wait one more night." "If I should prove of use as a snack, mistress, it would be more use than I have managed in the whole of my life," Taran replies dryly. "For bards are notoriously worthless layabouts. But what point in waiting? One appetizer may not sate the dragon if he is to get much hungrier, after all. I would not be all that much use as a light snack." Sandrim lets out a little sigh, then walks over to Taran. "I would trust her, I think," he says, glancing off toward the sky. "I don't know what she says, or why she says it, but I certainly don't think you'll be any use in some dragon's stomach. Perhaps I'm selfish, but you're the only Fastheldian I see out here." "I would not go against the Archmage's words," Evaryn says firmly, her arms loosening. "She is wise, and if she says to wait a night, then you should do so." She looks around, then to Tshepsi. "Does the Shadow whisper anything to you in this?" she asks quietly. "Becaussse we cannot sssee you, nor your ssscaley friend wittthout an eye...." Tshepsi hisses, tail twitching with agitation. "I mussst make thissss eye....and that, child of Fassstheld...takesss time." Huffing loudly, she folds her arms over her chest in imitation of an obstinate child and eyes Evaryn flatly. "It whissspersss many thingsss. But he wittth black wingsss remainsss sssilent." Taran tilts his head. "A tracking rune?" he asks. "Aye. I will wait for that. But..." he blows out a breath. "Mistress, I do not know if this will make sense to you, nor if it holds any meaning at all, but I have stayed here because here was where I needed to be. A thing...known, without the path of knowing. And I do not know this woman, or this dragon, nor any of the tale surrounding either...but there is where I need to go. Perhaps to rescue, perhaps just to die - I do not know. One day, and then...I go with whoever will go with me, or alone. To me, it matters little, I am afraid. I am aware it likely should, but I am no archmage to know all the meanings...I am simply accustomed to heeding the warnings and guidance what gift I have provides me. Call me a fool; it will not surprise me nor likely be untrue." Sandrim closes his eyes, and shakes his head. "... I know I can't follow you if you do go, but I'll wait here. If you take too long to return, I /will/ figure out how to use that gate to get to you, Taran." He turns and starts to walk off. "Just try not to get yourself killed, please," he says. "I still want you around." Evaryn sighs and shakes her head, "As I said, I will accompany you, if you wish a companion in your travels," she says grimly. "I have traveled through the Wildlands before, though never into the mountains." Her gaze moves north. "You should do what you can to prepare. We should leave tomorrow, as soon as you can be ready." "Ttthen you do underssstand me," Tshepsi nods at Taran, chest broadening with a heavy breath. "We do not alwaysss know why or where or how. Only that it isss. Only ttthhat we are. Sssleeep in the Tower tonight. You mussst be clossse." Taran nods, bowing slightly. "I will do so, mistress. Thank you." Evaryn hmmms quietly, "If you should choose company, you may find me in Wildcat Haven throughout most of tomorrow." She says nothing more, moving off, and then disappearing in a buzz that sounds of hornets. Return to Season 6 (2007) Category:Logs